


Jars of Bourbon

by ami_ven



Series: Highly Classified [7]
Category: NCIS, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: writerverse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Gibbs have a talk and a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jars of Bourbon

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "writerverse" challenge (write a crossover)

“Did you know your front door was unlocked?” asked Jack O’Neill, coming down the basement steps.

Gibbs didn’t look up from the piece of wood he was sanding. “Don’t have much worth stealing,” he said.

“Huh.” There was silence for a moment, as Jack wandered around, picking things up and putting them back down. “So, sounds like your team had an interesting time in Atlantis.”

“You could say that.”

“Hell of a thing,” Jack continued. “Can’t really prepare for it, the way that stuff just… gets inside your brain. Never quite got the hang of it myself.”

“Yeah,” Gibbs agreed. “DiNozzo seems to run that stuff without even thinking, and McGee… You got any geeks on your team, O’Neill?”

Jack snorted a laugh. “Yeah. But mine don’t have the gene.”

There was silence again, with only the scrape of Gibbs’s sander and the jingle of loose nails in the jar Jack had picked up. Then, the general sighed.

“Also heard you had a hard time, solving that murder.”

Gibbs looked up. “Four murders. Three more Marines died before we solved it.”

“Kind of outside your wheelhouse, Gibbs,” said Jack. “You’re used to catching people who kill on purpose, not poor saps brainwashed into it.”

“Evidence is the same,” said Gibbs. “Doesn’t matter if he was lying to us, or one of those.. Zanacks.”

“Zatarcs,” said Jack. “Thought I’d seen the last of the damn things.” He paused. “You had to kill him, Gibbs.”

“Did I?” the agent asked.

“Yes.” Jack set down the jar of nails with a rattling clunk. “Yes, dammit, you did. Four Marines dead already, and Morrison with his gun on another… you made the right call, gunny.”

Gibbs took the jar and tipped the nails out onto his workbench, then reached for a second that was already empty. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

Jack took the mason jar of bourbon he was offered. “No, it doesn’t.”

THE END


End file.
